Behind Closed Doors
by Aurien
Summary: Servants, handmaidens: they are the invisible force that go about unseen and unheard. No one pays them the attention they deserve, even though they can overhear anything and everything - from behind closed doors.


Alright, here is my Lord of the Rings story. This fic is in an experimental stage, so feedback would be much appreciated. Thanks!

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The stone floor was cold against the bottom of my feet as I walked speedily through the halls. Dawn had just broken over the horizon and was beginning to shine through the thin windows of the Golden Hall. I slipped soundlessly through the shadows, the corners left untouched by the morning's light, unseen by the guards standing in their full glory. I made my way through the passages frequented by those like me, the unseen force that keep a place like this running. I knew those passages to well, I could have followed them with my eyes closed, knowing precisely at which point to turn. There was no need for that, though, some of the torches along the passage still burned, though would soon die out. As I made my way to my destination, the scent of fresh bread teased my senses.

The kitchen was bright with the morning sun bursting through the open windows and back door. I paused a moment, allowing my eyes time to adjust to the sudden luster before me. There were many fires blazing, setting countless faces aglow with their many dancing colours. I wove my way through the numerous cooks as they cut the meat and bakers as they kneaded the dough for the morning meal. The day always started like this, as the workers had to be fed before they began their workday doing various tasks in and around the Hall. A woman turned and smiled as she saw me, her face smeared with flour, her fingers skillfully and knowledgably worked their way through a large mound of dough destined to become a loaf a fresh, sweet, golden bread.

"Good morn!" she said, wiping her hands on her apron. She reached under the table and unearthed a fresh baked loaf of bread wrapped in cloth.

"Ah, Nallewyn, you wonderful woman," I replied, taking in the bread's fresh scent. I looked around, making sure that everyone else was too busy to hear my next words; "Has - _she_ - been through this morning?"

Nallewyn looked around and nodded, "Just before dawn, as we were lighting the fires. She got some of yesterday's bread, didn't say much."

"Which way did she leave?" I asked.

"Out towards the back stables." Nallewyn replied, gesturing towards the open door against its glorious background.

"Many thanks, my friend." I said gratefully. I brushed passed her and continued to weave through the crowd towards the door.

Shielding my eyes from the morning light, I strode down the hill to the back stables, wondering what she could have possibly wanted at those stables. Her horse was kept with those of her uncle and brother, along with all of the calvary horses, in the main stables, just next to the Golden Hall. I walked in, the smell of hay and manure finding my nose instantly. I entered, searching for any visible forms of human life. The horses whinnied as I walked by, begging for a fresh supply of food and water. Some tried to nudge my shoulder, pleading for attention, as many of their owners were too busy working to care for them themselves.

Finding my search to be in vain, I turned to leave, but stopped abruptly. One stall was empty. I sighed, recognizing it immediately. That stall belonged to that deep brown horse, the one no one could tame, no one could control. This horse had been named Brego, after one of our land's greatest rulers, in hopes that the gelding would live up to its human counterpart. Many attempted to train Brego as a foal, but to no avail. There were none that could train him, none to calm his nerves. It had been her latest project, her attempt to get rid of all that was on her mind.

"If only that girl had some common sense," I murmured to myself, my voice causing a stir amongst the horses. Leaving my thought unfinished, I stopped in front of a stall occupied by a beautiful bay mare. She'd belonged to my father, who sent her to me on my fifteenth birthday. I patted her snout, assuring her that I would be back later, if my duties permitted me to do so. I turned and proceeded to walk out, passing the one of the two stable masters, Ealle, as she entered with a bale of hay slung over her shoulder.

"Brael! Beautiful morning, hmm?" she said, throwing the bale down at her feet.

I smiled, "Yes, very."

"Your horse has already been fed, brushed too." she said, binding her hair behind her head, its natural golden colour shimmering in the light that was breaking through the roof of the stables.

"Thank you. An early morning, I'm assuming?" I asked

Ealle grumbled under her breath; I smiled, knowing all too well what was going on. She has obviously lost some game of sorts with the other stable master and, as a result, had to do all the morning chores herself. This was a common occurrence among the two, both of whom had known each other since they were children.

"Was there any money involved, Ealle?" I asked, teasingly.

Ealle rolled her eyes, "No, thank the heavens. He would have slaughtered me."

"By chance, have you seen _her_ in this morning?"

"Yes, she said something about taking your horse out for some exercise."

"Ealle, did you notice that my horse is still here?"

"Hmm?" Ealle's eyes grew to about twice their usual size; "She didn't take - oh, no, not - Brego? She's going to get herself killed!"

I ran back to my horse's stall, "Hurry up and help me! I have to find her."

"Oh, in the name of Eorl himself, Brael, what good will it do?" Ealle protested, though it did not stop her from aiding me in tacking up my horse; "She doesn't understand what that horse can do!"

"Ealle," I spoke sternly, she clearly had no idea where I was coming from, "if she is hurt, her blood will on my hands." With that, I mounted my horse and rode off, pushing the mare as fast as she would go. I knew she wouldn't have gone far, most likely down to the valley.

The wind stung my eyes as I flew down the road, passing the people of Edoras as they made their way to their gardens for fresh food to break their fast. My horse sped out of the gates and down into the valley. I felt guilty for not acknowledging the forefathers of our land as they lay in their tombs covered in white blossoms. I hoped that their souls would forgive me in my moment of haste.

As I made it down to the valley, I frantically began my search. I could see no sign of her or Brego, and moved my search around the bend, my horse rather reluctantly obliging to my commands.

As if appearing out of nowhere, Brego suddenly dashed passed me. My horse reared, and, being caught off guard, I was thrown to the ground. I hastily pulled myself up from the ground, turning around to see catch her in the act of running. As I looked, I found myself gazing at Brego beautifully galloping back towards the city, there was only one small problem - he was without a rider. I panicked. Leaving my horse behind, I sprinted the way Brego had come, praying for her life to have been spared.

At first, I did not see her lying in the grass in the morning light. I did not see the rising and falling of her chest as her breathing became more and more erratic. I ran to her, as quick as my feet would allow; she was lying on her back, her naturally sun-kissed hair intertwined with the grass as if fanned out from her pale head. I collapsed at her side, trying to catch my breath.

"Do you feel any pain? Anything at all?" I asked between my sporadic panting. I should have been accustomed to the exercise, after all of those years, but I did not have my mother's natural physique.

"Here." was the only word she could utter. She motioned with her head to her side. Taking a deep breath as I prepared for the worst, I softly ran a fair hand over her stomach area, checking for any wounds or broken bones. My fingers ran over every bone, every sensitive area. Luckily, I found her ribs to still be intact and no blood lead to the conclusion that there were no open cuts. I sighed heavily, there was no doubt that she would suffer from some bruising, most likely on her side, head, and lower back, but it was nothing more than she deserved.

"Anywhere else?" I asked, just to be certain.

She paused, then shook her head. I looked at her, grabbing her hand; "You do not have to be strong for me. I must know if you are injured so that someone may be summoned to aid you. I will ask you again, where else do you feel pain?"

Again, she paused, then pointed in the direction her feet. As I removed one of her shoes, I found a rather large mark, one that all too obviously resembled the shoe of a horse. Tenderly, I felt for any broken bones, but surprisingly found none. She had been very lucky.

"Have you strength to stand?" I asked, silently chastising her for what she'd done, though I did not outwardly show it. She looked to me, her brilliantly blue eyes shining as tears began to form, "I am very sorry."

"What is wrong? Are you ill?"

"No, I just," she sighed; a few strands of golden hair slid down her cheek, "I thought I could tame him."

"Of course you did," I replied, gently sliding my hand under her head.

"No," she said quickly, pushing my hand away, "Leave me."

I immediately repeated the action; "No!" she cried; a single tear slid down her face, "I told you to leave. That was an order, not a suggestion."

Forcefully, I sat her up, looking her in the eyes, making sure my point was understood, "I will not permit you to lie here in the grass and weep over a horse." I said, "Especially since that horse has not even died."

She smiled, unable to stop herself. I helped her stand up.

"Come, Eowyn, I have fresh bread in the stables. That is if Ealle hasn't eaten it all yet."

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You like? Eh, eh? If so, please review! Thanks!


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